~Hey guys! Sorry, i forgot to add a part to this chapter so i had to re-do it. Sorry about that. Xxx~
With knees pressed to the ground, his fingers du within the mixture of ash and dirt, Hiccup's eyes remained focused on the exact spot where Jolene had taken Hadrian. Unblinking, he stares at the ground, hoping that if he concentrated enough, Hadrian will billow up in a cloud of violet wisps and reform whole. Safe.
But Hiccup knew better than to wish for something so miraculous.
He was gone.
Now trapped in a perilous dreamworld – a treacherous and desolate realm where reality cease to exist.
The moment after Hadrian was taken prisoner, Hiccup collapsed to the ground and unleashed an ungodly howl of pain and agony. The word 'no' faintly reaching everyone's ears.
He doesn't know how long he's been staring at the ground, but it couldn't have been that long because the pool of blood left by the unfortunate woman who got attacked still remains a puddle a few feet to Hiccup's left.
Toothless coos in concern and nudges Hiccup's shoulder, but he doesn't respond. Stoick had ordered a few villagers to pick up the body, and he promised the man she'll have a proper burial. Curling his fingers, Hiccup bites the inside of his lip, soon he tastes blood.
A hand on his shoulder causes him to blink. "Hiccup," his father's voice softly says. "I've sent out several villagers to scour the village. We will help him, we'll get him back."
Hiccup doesn't say anything, his eyes simply flick to the dirt as more shadows gather around him. He drops his head lower.
"It doesn't matter." He mumbles. "We're never getting him back."
"Come on, Hiccup" Fishlegs' voice speaks. "Don't think like that. We just need to find out where she went and we can take her dow-"
"You just don't get it!" Hiccup snaps. Springing up from his spot, he whirls to face the group of Vikings. "Any of you! We are never getting him back! Even if we find him, he won't be the same! Never again."
Hiccup lowers his head, eyes staring sightlessly at the dirt floor.
"Jolene has him. He betrayed her. And you heard her, I know you did. She'll torture him, brainwash him, anything to make him pay. And it's all my fault."
"Hiccup," Astrid takes a timid step forward. "He chose to come to you despite the circumstances. It was his own choice. He knew what was going to happen."
"And that's why we need to find him and help him." Stoick adds.
"I thought you didn't care." Hiccup coldly states as he makes eye contact with his father.
"I didn't at first, only because I didn't trust him, but after this, he's earned some back." Stoick states.
Hiccup makes a ghost of a smile as he turns back around.
"Grandmamma's already working on a spell that can transfer you to the dreamrealm and find Jolene." Fishlegs says, to this, Hiccup turns with a flicker of hope on his face. "She's searching all the books to help you."
Hiccup doesn't say anything, but instead looks to his father. For a split second, they stare at one another before Stoick nods. "I told her to have it ready by tomorrow night. Hopefully she won't be too tired."
The smile on Hiccup's face was genuine as he catapulted himself into his father. "Thank you, Dad."
With the sun setting over the horizon, casting everything in a reddish-pink glow of light Stoick orders everyone to bed and to bolt the doors. Knowing he won't get any sleep tonight, Hiccup decided to stay up late and scrounge through the spellbook Grandmamma gave him.
"There has to be a way to get him back." Hiccup mumbles to himself.
He flips through the pages of the small spells and incantations. Nothing seemed as though it would work. Hiccup had even drawn a circle of salt around him to prep for transportation. But nothing came up that would prove useful. Nonetheless, Hiccup flipped over and over in the book to reread spell.
Toothless soon came upstairs and pushed aside Hiccup's hands.
"No, no Toothless. I can't take a break." Hiccup tells the Night Fury. "I need to find a way to save Hadrian."
Toothless coos in reply. And he nuzzles Hiccup's cheek. In turn, Hiccup put down the book and grasped the dragons' head in an embrace. Hiccup sniffs and he feels Toothless' forked tongue flick his cheek.
With a simple pat, Toothless circles Hiccup a couple times before nestling down next to him. His head resting on Hiccup's thigh.
Despite the sting in his eyes to close them, Hiccup tried his best to try something.
Until finally the fatigue overtook him and he went to sleep with the book in his hand, and Toothless encircled around him. The moment his head went against the end board, he slept.
A soft scraping noise made Hiccup open his eyes.
He scanned the outline of his skylight but saw no movement within their ranks. Listening, he heard only the high, keening whistle of the wind as it whipped along the sides of his house.
Hiccup rubbed one eye with the back of his hand. He turned his head to see if Toothless was still asleep, only to find him gone.
"Toothless?" he called into the darkness, which seemed to eat the syllables right out of his mouth.
There was no answer.
A dream? Impossible. He couldn't have fallen asleep. He'd only shut his eyes for a moment.
Hiccup pushed to his feet and made his way downstairs. The house was casted in a dim grey tone, everything dank and abandoned.
The sudden sound of soft humming caused Hiccup to flinch. He squinted through the gloom toward where the door leading to the rear of the house now stood ajar.
A dim blue light emanated from the slight gap, lighting a path through the obstacle course of furniture.
"H-Hadrian?" Hiccup called, louder than before. Again, he received no response.
The melody, as though drifting up from the depths of some fathomless well, continued to echo through the house.
It was the same song that had filtered through the trees of the woodlands. The same collection of notes that had echoed in his skull numerous times. It was the lullaby he'd heard playing within the depths of his mind, squeezing tis way to the forefront of his mind.
Hiccup began to move in the direction of the humming. He stopped as soon as the toes of his boot met with the edge of the slanted porcelain-blue shaft of light that spilled from the door. Hesitating, held in place by his own indecision, he wondered if he dared looks inside.
Did he even have a choice?
Maybe, he thought, he should do something to try and wake himself. If he cried out, would Toothless hear him and be able to rouse him?
While Hiccup deliberated, the humming beyond the door grew stronger, the melody rising and falling in its familiarly haunting and melancholy pattern.
Curiosity overriding his trepidation, Hiccup took his first step into the blue light, where the coldness of the winter seemed to intensify. A draft rose up around him, sending a chill through to his bones, as though every spirit trapped within had decided to come out and watch him approach.
But toward what? Or whom?
One tenuous step after another brought Hiccup closer and closer to the door until he stood just beside it.
The door swung inward at his slightest touch, making no sound as it moved.
Where he knew he should have found the cold night and the back of his house, Hiccup instead discovered himself suddenly within the confines of a large marble crypt.
Slats of blue-gray light funneled down from high square windows, each no larger than a letter-size envelope. Inside, the smell was dry and sharp, like burnt paper. Countless broken and misshapen faces stared sightlessly down at Hiccup from their perches along marble shelves lining the four all walls. At the front of the crypt, an iron door stood ajar. Backed by blue-tinted stained glass, the door was the source of the sapphire light, which fell like a translucent gauze over the crypt's centerpiece – an elevated stone tomb.
Atop the tomb, chiseled in polished marble, lay the carving of a beautiful woman, her eyes closed in death, her cold stone hands fastened around an equally frozen bouquet of roses. Hiccup knew he had seen that face before, had watched it emerge from the unfolding blackness that had claimed Hadrian.
The woman's hair, like that of a sorceress, lay spread around her head. It draped over the sides of the sarcophagus in long, coiling tendrils. Her marble dress, heavy and flowing, like the inaugural gown of a queen, spilled from either side of the elevated tomb while the embellished train fell in gentle folds along the stairs leading down from the base. The pleats and endless ripples in the marble garment gave the illusion of softness, her face the illusion of life. It was as if at any moment Hiccup could expect to see her chest rise and fall with the intake and release of breath. Perhaps the most disturbing element about the tomb, however, was that the impossibly heavy lid had been shifted open.
Hiccup didn't dare climb the steps and peer inside, knowing that the only thing worse than finding a withered body within would be not finding one.
He wadded instead through the crypt until he reached the gate. He grasped the side of the iron and tugged inward. With a screech for each pull, the door gave inch by inch until it yielded a space big enough for him to slide through. He eased out, and pushed the door shut.
Outside, gray ash coated the ground of a silent neighborhood. Flecks of white sifted from the purple sky, falling through the arid atmosphere to gather like snow atop the countless crooked roofs. An enormous brickwork house, simple in comparison to the ones Hadrian showed Hiccup.
A small concrete porch led up to a front door, shaded by a simple verandah, which was itself supported by a row of painted white pillars. The front door, done in an opaque gold stained-glass design, shimmered a satiny dim yellow in the late afternoon sunlight.
As Hiccup entered, his footsteps echoed against the polished wood floor. Hiccup craned his head, awed at the incredible height of the ceiling. Someone must like old-fashioned boats, he thought, his eyes finding first the model of what he thought might be a schooner, perched on a long hallway table, and then a large painting depicting a ship being tossed around on a stormy sea.
His footsteps went mute as they sank into plush gold and black carpeting, which trailed all the way up a grand staircase tucked against the wall to his left. To his right was an open living room area with tall, sliding wooden doors. Inside, a fireplace played the role of centerpiece. The walls were lined with shelves decorated with colorful glass knickknacks and more boats. Tall floor candelabrums with fancy flat bowls accented the space. The lamp especially, Hiccup thought, gave the room a very "look but don't touch" feel.
He walked down the hallway, stopping when he came to a second, larger room to his right. This one was another no-touchy, done in antique gold and soft pinks with hardwood inlay floor, heavy draperies, and fancy old chairs. In one corner, like a squat gentlemen in a tuxedo, stood a polished black piano.
As he stepped in the room, it felt almost as though he were crossing through a portal, leaving one century behind for another. He strode toward the piano, carefully stepping around a low table with spindly legs. He moved to stand behind the instrument, where he let his fingers trial the keys. Picking one somewhere in the middle, he pressed it softly.
The note – out of tune – boomed around him.
Hiccup jerked his arm back. His elbow plowed into the shelf behind him, knocking over a picture frame. He swung around, picked up the photo – and froze when he found himself staring into the intense gaze of a green-eyed, brown-haired boy, in his teen years at most. The realistic painting, drawn from the shoulders up, showed the boy dressed in a blue tunic, and a black vest. His gaze seemed to be fixed in an almost-scowl at the painter, like he was indignant at the idea of having his face painted. Faint half circles underlined the boys' eyes, giving him the look of being prematurely world-weary. Hiccup brought the picture closer, searching that face for traces of the boy he knew.
Turning, he places the framed painting back on the bookshelf. At the sound of feet approaching from the hall, Hiccup turned back to the piano quickly, pretending he was distracted by its beauty, allowing his fingers to ghost over the keys again.
The footsteps came right up to the edge of the doorway, and stopped. No one stepped out. Hiccup looked up and only saw a flash of black out of the corner as it darted across. His heart did a triple set as he thought he saw a flick of jade green. He walked out and felt his heart hitch in his throat as he found a black silhouette waiting for him on the stairs, one hand poised on the banister.
In a blink, it zipped up the stairs.
He climbed after it, the fingers of his hand sliding along the mahogany banister. His eyes focused on the apparition. After another short, silent spurt of stairs, he reached the second floor landing, which gave way to a cloister of rooms. When he saw it mount the stairs again, though, he knew this would not be their stop. They traipsed higher yet. Here the carpet ended, and they tromped on naked wood, the sound echoing through the house. They reached yet another tiny landing, a window stamped into the wall to his left. Hiccup quirked and eyebrow at the view through this tiny portal one that showed him little more than the detail of a neighboring brickwork.
They rounded one final corner. With an internal grown, he saw that here, the next staircase, set slightly apart, seemed to slant more steeply and grow even more narrow, the individual steps themselves somehow thicker and taller. This staircase reached up toward a single narrow door. The burn in his thighs intensified as they climbed again.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Hiccup stepped over the threshold into a bedroom. Shadows gathered in pockets despite the room's two windows, while above him, the ceiling pitched and slanted upward like the roof of a tent. A time-eaten mauve color wrapped the walls. Large purple curtains snapped and stirred in the breeze. Outside the window, a tangled outline of naked black tree limbs scratched at a churning backdrop of ominous gray-purple clouds. Centered in a pool of yellow light, he could see a plush purple chair. Bookshelves stuffed with dust-caked tomes lined the walls, and on a nearby table sat an old-fashioned oil lamp. Dimly lit, it was a partial source of the overlay of yellow light. The other contributor was the bed of fading embers glowing low within the enormous fireplace in front of the purple chair.
And the edge of one black boot.
Hiccup thought about calling out, but what if it was just another trick? Another illusion? And if it wasn't Hadrian in that chair, then it had to be one of Jolene's demons . . . or something worse. He looked at the hand that rested on the velvet-covered armrest. A familiar hand gripped it with curled fingers. Hiccup's eyes traveled up the black sleeve. His head down, Hadrian sat staring at the purple carpet in front of him, his black hair drawn around his face. Startled at the sight of him, Hiccup released a gasp.
Hadrian's head jerked in the direction of the sound. Hiccup opened his mouth, but stopped short of calling out to him, the fear of it being someone else still lingering like a spider on his back.
In the chair, Hadrian say nearly folded over, his face buried in his hands.
Hiccup took the chance. "Hadrian," he whispered.
His gaze turned slowly toward him. His black eyes met with Hiccup's. His face, so white, so drawn, seemed like that of a ghost.
"Hadrian?" Hiccup called again, this time louder. "Hadrian, it's me, Hiccup."
"Hiccup," he said simply, his voice a monotone.
"Yes. It's me."
"Hiccup is gone," he said, turning to stare into the fireplace. The fading embers within cast a low orange glow across his face. "I left him behind. He'd never come back simply for me."
"No. I did. I did, for you." Hiccup drew closer.
He reached the edge of the chair and gingerly placed his fingertips at the very edge of the armrest, barely touching Hadrian's arm as he kneeled to his side.
"Please. Come back with me."
"I can't." Hadrian mumbled. "Even if you were real, I can't go back."
"Hadrian. Look at me. I am real. I came to find you. I don't know how I got here, but I don't' care. I'm taking you back home with me. It's me - I can prove it."
The muted bang of a door diverted his attention for a brief moment, tearing his eyes away from Hadrian. When he looked back, he started, his heart leaping almost painfully in his chest.
Hadrian was standing, standing before him. His black eyes rested on Hiccup. His bruised face, wan and void of emotion, seemed almost alien in the dim light.
"You're a dream," he said. "Just like everything else."
Hiccup frowned. He reached his hand out. "Touch me." He said. "I'm real. Even if this is a dream, I'm not."
He felt Hadrian's fingers, light as dust, trace his palm. They left in their wake a prickling sensation that made his skin seem almost to vibrate.
Hiccup could not have stopped himself if he'd tried. Now as he closed the distance between them. Not as he sprang to wrap his arms around Hadrian's neck. Not as he pressed himself to his frame, to prove that he was real. Hadrian in turn clung fast to Hiccup, tightened his hold on him, felt the realness of him in the fabric of his familiar green tunic, in the warmth of his body.
Hiccup pulled back to look up at him, reached to touch the purple bruise beneath his left eye, the angry split of skin above his lip. Hiccup's brow furrowed. Jolene. But how could that be? Hiccup watched her take Hadrian hours ago. Then again, this was a dreamworld, for all he knew, a few hours could have felt like months, maybe years.
"Hadrian." Hiccup kept his voice measured. "I need to get you out of here. You're coming with me."
"Why?" he snapped.
'Because," hiccup said with a gasp, unable to fathom the source of his question, or his tone. "Because you deserve better than this."
Hadrian turned his head and looked away from Hiccup, back into the fireplace.
"Listen." Hiccup gripped his hand. "We'll fix it, okay? We'll find a way."
"It's too late for me." It was scarcely a whisper.
"Don't say that! There is a way. If it's us together, me and you, then there's a way. Okay? We got through the fight, didn't we? Even though everything went wrong. Hadrian?"
His eyes regarded Hiccup once more, and this time Hiccup searched them for his reflection, for any evidence of light. But they returned only a blackness so pure, so frighteningly bottomless, that it took all of Hiccup's willpower not to turn away.
"Say okay. Please?"
Hadrian stared at him.
"Please. Say that you know I'm coming back for you. For me?"
Hadrian looked down.
Hiccup shook his head. "Don't you believe me?" Hiccup's eyes stung with the threat of tears. He could hardly stand to see Hadrian this way. It was as though the Hadrian he knew had been consumed, replaced by this husk of despair, his soul recessed so deeply within that no light could reach it. If there was only some way Hiccup could prove that it was the real him who stood before Hadrian, and not some phantom imposter. If only he had something to give hi, some sort of proof. Or just something to leave him with. A token. A promise. Anything as long as it was something as real and solid as him.
Hiccup dug through the pockets of his vest, fingers fumbling, grasping for something to give him.
Then his hands stopped on the ribbon he'd left in his pocket. He let his fingers follow the smooth satin fabric to the embroidery of his mother's initials. With nimble fingers, he fished it out and it slipped free with a soft whisper.
"Here." Hiccup said. Reaching toward Hadrian, he offered him the ribbon. "Take this." Hiccup said. "It's mine, and I'm coming back for it, so don't lose it. You have to hold onto it. You have to keep it safe. For me. Do you understand?"
At first Hadrian only stared at the ribbon, but then he lifted one of those elegant hands to touch the fabric. Then their fingers brushed as he slowly puled the satin free, winding it around his own hand. As Hiccup drew back, he saw his fingers curl around it in a fist. Clutching it, something within him seemed to stir. His brow furrowed in confusion, as if there were something about the violet ribbon now encircling his hand that he couldn't quite understand.
"Hiccup?" Hadrian called to him in a whisper.
Hiccup nodded, a powerful spark of hope igniting his chest as he took Hadrian's wrapped hand in both of his. An urgent feeling started to crawl over him, feeling as though he were running out of time. He embraced Hadrian once again, took in the scent of him – a concentrated dose of spice and incense that sent his mind reeling.
"Hold on," Hiccup said as he edged backwards, but kept Hadrian's hands in his.
He could hardly stand the thought of leaving him there, alone. He couldn't let him die or continue to be tortured like this. Whatever was happening to him, he had to make it stop. But his body suddenly began to grow more and more anxious.
"Hold on and wait. For me."
The world suddenly morphed into a blur.
"Hiccup!"
"I'll be back, I promise!"
These last words echoed through the vertigo around him.
A black flower bloomed at the center of the jumble, spreading its petals until it covered everything, and silencing the world
Hiccup's eyes blinked open, and a soft stream of sunlight leaked through his skylight.
A new day.
As Hiccup takes in his surroundings, his head rolled to the side and found Toothless peacefully resting, his head still on Hiccup's thigh. Hiccup blinked, and as he yawned, his skin felt tight. It was then he realized he had dry tears on his face.
His fingers brushed over them, but he didn't wipe them away. Instead, he left them as a reminder of the dream. I promise, he thought, repeating his vow over and over in his mind.
I promise.